Acrylic Nightmare
by peach feet
Summary: Dumbledore lives on, except from within a portrait. Erm, HPxDM, HxG, RxHR, LxG, SSxHr, ADxMM. I know, too many pairings. But...who can have too many pairings? Fluff, yum! :D
1. On the Wall

Disclaimer: Harry Potter isn't mine, but Fred, Draco, Dean, Snape, and Ron are. Just to clarify. Sorry for the inconvenience. Thanks to Patia for the comments last time! Please continue! Thanks also to Meghan for kindly beta-ing. No thanks to Rowling for the awful events in HBP. Best book, worst ending, in terms of Kleenex usage. I wasted half a box on "I'm not worried, I'm with you, Harry" alone.

**Oh yeah, spoilers ahead, if you're dumb enough to not have read the book before reading fanfic o.0**

Chapter One: On the Wall 

It was an odd sensation, observing your own funeral. From the spot on the wall where his portrait now hung, Albus Dumbledore could see right out the lone window onto the lake, before which the entire Hogwarts population was gathered—along with a few others.

He gave a small smile, seeing Minerva McGonagall unconsciously dab her eyes on Grawp's tunic, and all the people he knew and loved all congregating for him. He sighed deeply, and adjusted the half-moon spectacles on his crooked nose. Albus knew he had had to die, and that he had to die for Harry's sake. Sybill Trelawney gave him the pleasure of knowing this only a few months prior, to which he was eternally grateful. It pained him to know that he would never be able to give her another pay rise for the achievement of three actual predictions, and that led him on to the thought that he would have to waste the rest of his portrait's days here, not able to do anything, not able to protect anyone.

He wandered over to Armando Dippet's portrait, in which he was dozing nicely, so Albus was free to stand quietly and watch the proceedings below with a better view of the crowd. He anxiously scanned the crowd for Harry, whom he knew would definitely be seeking a chat with him. At long last, he spotted him on the end of a long row, sitting beside what looked like Ginevra Weasley. Her brother Ronald and Hermione Granger were there also, and the two pairs were engaged in each other, to the point where Albus felt obligated to look away, smiling slightly. Harry would undoubtedly try to half-heartedly free himself of Ginny, but she, headstrong, brave, loyal, and very much in love, would, of course, not listen. Ron and Hermione were a different story. Voldemort would most probably try to use their love against them, like he did Harry and Sirius the previous year. However, Voldemort was not a loving man, nor would he ever be. With the interference of each Horcrux, his power unknowingly diminished. Harry would have to understand that. The rustle and murmur of distant movement remained by the lake, alerted Albus that his service was over, but the four best pupils Albus had ever encountered remained by the lake, holding each other.

Cornelius Fudge let himself into the Headmaster's study, feeling rather out of place. He had managed to slip away from Scrimgeour at the reception—not that most of them felt like eating. There were the couple exceptions, like that annoying Umbridge woman, Rita Skeeter, assorted other political hopefuls that hoped their appearance there would further their careers. He however, left swiftly, pausing only to pat Hagrid clumsily on the shoulder, which he still had to reach up for, even though he was standing, and Hagrid sat. In fact, Hagrid lay slumped on the table, clutching a tankard of mead, and was ignoring and unresponsive to Olympe Maxime's crooning sympathies. Hagrid merely grunted at the former Minister's presence, so Fudge nodded,and walked on, twirling his staff in hands, as the absence of a hat clearly deprived him of the luxury. He wore a neatly pressed pinstriped suit his wife lovingly prepared for him at four in the morning, just for today. Reflecting, he wondered why she hadn't left him yet. In any case, the purpose of his visit was really to see Dumbledore, thank Merlin he had a portrait.

A portrait, however, won't do much good, I'm afraid, when it comes to the safety of Hogwarts' students, Cornelius.

Fudge jumped. "Eh, what? Whozzair?"

Come now, my dear Cornelius, I am an accomplished enough Legilimens as to communicate non-verbally.

"Dumbledore, you sly rascal! Where are you?" Fudge exclaimed exasperatedly.

"On the wall," Dumbledore replied placidly, moving back to his own frame with a last glance at Harry and Ginny, who were now alone by the lake. Fudge spied him, and beamed.

"_Dumbledore, _my old chap! Good Lord, that was some burial you got there."

"So it was," Albus replied gravely. "That was a very touching speech, although I'd have preferred to be remembered by my somewhat spectacular skill at Gobstones, than my 'ability to restore calm unto others.'"

Fudge chuckled. "Death hasn't changed you much, has it?" His chuckle died quickly, and he gazed intently at the only person he'd ever dared call mentor. "Dumbledore, we need to talk. The entire world is now in serious peril. With You-Know-Who now back in full swing, and half the non-human population on his side, not to mention walking corpses and a few hundred Death Eaters at his beck and call, we're done for, Albus! And frankly, with you gone…well…what fighting chance we did have is torn to shreds!" He finished his ranting monologue, panting. Dumbledore didn't reply for a moment, but when he did, Fudge could fully appreciate the eulogy he had just spoken.

"Cornelius, I know all too well that Voldemort now has a clear path through the Ministry. I also know that nothing we do involving force will stop him. I know a few things, Cornelius, that you do not, and probably should. Please, take a seat." Fudge did so, feeling slightly apprehensive. "Excellent, now"—he sat in a conveniently-placed chintz armchair—"I must tell you that I am—was, excuse me, _was _the most powerful wizard on our side, all humility aside. I was also lucky enough to be the only one Voldemort"—Fudge gasped—"ever feared…although why, I cannot tell you. I hope it wasn't because of my fashion sense. In any case, Voldemort now anticipates one other good wizard to provide some sort of opposition for him to enjoy himself with. He then means to kill this valiant wizard, restoring him to his normal evil state—with _no _weaknesses."

"And…who is this wizard?"

"Harry Potter."

Fudge sighed. "I should have known."

"Yes, well, Harry will need all the training he can get to face Voldemort, and win. I trust you can supply it?"

"And if we don't?" Fudge asked timidly.

"We die."

"Not on my watch," remarked a rough voice, wryly.

Fudge jumped, again. "_Confund it, _you'll give me a hernia if you keep—Moody!" Indeed, Mad-Eye Moody stood in the doorway, stooped form no less intimidating than ever.

Dumbledore beamed, his acrylic face crinkling in happiness. "Alastor, please sit!" Mad-Eye shrugged and swept off his travelling cloak and bowler cap, revealing greying grizzled hair, and a face that looked even more like a Frankenstein, as the exhaustion he clearly felt showed through his eye. The other eye, electric blue and blank, whizzed wildly in his head, so Fudge looked away, feeling queasy. Dumbledore, on the other hand, placed his fingertips together in that habitual mannerism of his, and stared benignly at the newcomer. "So, Alastor, what's the status? I was just informing Cornelius here of our past actions within the Order." Moody raised a partially severed eyebrow.

"You're informing 'im?" he growled. "Why? The Order's undercover for a _reason_."

"What's the Order?" Fudge asked curiously.

"Yes, Alastor, but I think Cornelius has the right to know we've been snooping, especially when it's no longer a safety issue, but an ethical one."

"You've been WHAT? And what the ruddy hell is the Order?" Fudge was getting annoyed now.

"Dumbledore, what if he gets captured? What then? He'll be a danger! A liability!"

"Not if he doesn't know more than he needs to." Moody growled, but shrugged, and let him explain to Fudge, who was looking rather purple, and livid. "Cornelius, the Order of the Phoenix is a secret anti-Voldemort society that seeks information to use against him. We have Aurors, Ministry officials, and other brave volunteers on the inside to keep the information flow steady. We have assisted in capturing and unfortunately, killing quite a number of known Death Eaters, and have stopped new recruits where we can. We lead dangerous lives, Cornelius, but the satisfaction of helping to defeat Voldemort is worth it all." He glanced at Moody, who was staring at Fudge with both eyes.

Fudge sat like a fish out of water, gulping and mouthing unspoken words. Finally, he managed, "You _were_ conspiring against me!"

Dumbledore sighed. "No, Cornelius, only against Voldemort."

"O-oh. So—oh. Right, ok. Oh. Oh, ok. Right. Er—"

"Shut up, man!" Moody growled, annoyed. Fudge shut up at once. "Anyway, I came for your funeral, o'course, but also 'cause I found out that that traitor Snape's been promoted in the Death Eater ranks." Moody spat at the name. Dumbledore shook his head sadly.

"Severus did not betray me. In fact, this was all according to plan. I hadn't actually expected to die until recently, but I knew it had to be for the final solution…for Harry." There was a silence.

"Snape still killed you. We have witnesses, how can you say that—"

"I know what I'm talking about, Alastor. Now, this needs to be put on the record, so no one kills him…ahem, yes, well, Narcissa and Bellatrix—I trust you know who they are?" Satisfied at the murmur of assent, he continued. "Well anyway, they approached him with an Unbreakable Vow in mind. You may know that one Draco Malfoy was forced to recently join the ranks of his father's master? Yes, well, he was ordered to kill me. He is not a killer. Therefore, Snape was bound by one of the strongest forms of magic, to kill me, hence completing young Mr. Malfoy's task. This would bring Severus closer to Voldemort, and being the spectacularly accomplished Legilimens he is, could slowly worm his way into Voldemort's deepest consciousness. Voldemort would then be susceptible to Harry's attack. It's the only feasible way…" he trailed off.

"How did you know you were going to die?" Fudge asked warily.

"It was told to me in a prophecy. It was also confessed to me by Severus himself." Moody gasped.

"_Snape _told you? That means—"

"That he is still very much on our side, yes." There was a long pause, then Fudge rose.

"I'll be back, Dumbledore, to discuss a few things. I must be getting back…yes…Moody, Dumbledore…" he bowed himself out, looking a little bewildered. He needed time to think.

Omg, I just realised one of the comments I made here was really provocative…YAY. Erm, where is it…ah. **_Voldemort would most probably try to use their love against them, like he did Harry and Sirius the previous year. _**HAHAHAHAHAHAA YESSSSS.


	2. On the Ground

**YAY! I'm back again, SUCKERS. You get to hear more of my lamenting FLANGST, because I'm a FLANGST WHORE, like Meggie! 3 **

**-**

**HP owned by Rowling, blahblahblah…..POO. **

**----------------**

Chapter Two: On the Ground 

Harry stood a long time at the lake with Ginny, absent-mindedly stroking her long fiery hair as she stood huddled beside him. He gazed out over the still lake and listened intently to the heavy silence that very rarely echoed over the forest.

Ginny glanced up at his face, which was uncharacteristically calm, and burrowed even farther in his chest. Inside, Harry was reeling. At the beginning of the year, he had bought Ginny a beautiful bracelet, from a very smug lady in Diagon Alley. It was a simple silver design, and Harry was very pleased with it. In truth, he hadn't thought about actually giving it to her all that much…and now that he had the perfect chance, he seemed to be frozen.

Ginny noticed his eyes glazing over. "What are you thinking?" she whispered. Harry seemed to wake slowly from a pleasant dream. He looked at her with blank eyes.

"Oh…nothing. Nothing." Cursing at himself, he stuffed his free hand in his pocket, grasping the bracelet firmly in his fist, and willed himself to take it out.

Nothing.

Ginny smiled sadly. "I know it's hard, I mean, Dumbledore was everything for all of us, especially you, I know…" she added matter-of-factly.

Harry let out his breath in a whoosh. "No, Ginny, see…" She frowned.

"Are you trying to get rid of me again? 'Cause you know I won't—oh!" Harry, having rolled his eyes for the fifth time in ten minutes, had suddenly leaned over and clamped his mouth on hers. She detached herself in about a minute, gasping for breath, and gasped again, but not for breath! In her hand was the gorgeous silver bracelet, and her eyes sparkled in delight as she gingerly slipped it on her wrist. Harry stayed long enough to see her reaction, and took off sprinting down the lawn, face burning like a stoplight.

Cornelius Fudge was livid.

As was Rufus Scrimgeour, but he wasn't showing it. The pair was engaged in a heated argument over what should happen over the next few days. Fudge was spitting with rage, and he appeared as if he had just run a marathon.

"Scrimgeour, you _know _we can't sit back and let You-Know-Who even further into our threshold! We need to take action, and let the public know—"

"Let the—what? Fudge, you _idiot,_ do you have any idea what madness will break out if we do?" Rufus spluttered. Fudge swelled like a balloon.

"That's exactly what _I _did, and look where it got _me!" _he puttered, outraged. "Out of a job, and luck, as far as I'm concerned! Now You-Know-Who has a very strong hold on us, and it's all because of me!" he added mournfully.

"Well, that's very lamentable and all, but my dear Fudge, I'm prepared to think _I'm _much more adept at this job than you, shall we say, and since I am, I think I should be much more capable of protecting the public from any threat whatsoever." Scrimgeour leaned back in his chair, smugly placing his fingertips together, thoroughly irritating Fudge, who snorted loudly.

"Going to take him on yourself, are you? Good luck, you'll need it. Just notify me what type of coffin you'd like, and I'd be happy to oblige." With that, Fudge walked out, quite pleased with his dramatic and witty exit.

Harry skidded into the empty hallway that led up to Dum—what _used _to be Dumbledore's office. Harry would have to get that straight now. Standing outside, Harry smacked himself. He forgot about the password.

"Er…Acid Pops?" The gargoyle didn't budge. Harry rolled his eyes, remembering that that was a former password, so it _obviously _wouldn't be used again.

"Chocolate Frogs?" The stone statue remained immobile.

"Jelly Slugs?"

"Bertie Botts Every Flavour Beans?"

"Sherbert Lemons?" Harry massaged his temples, frustrated.

"Jello?" he tried, laughing hollowly. His sarcastic laughter, however, was brutally cut short by the sound of granite scraping waxed marble. The gargoyle swung to the side, revealing the spiral staircase he knew so well. "O-oh, OK…" he stammered, flummoxed. Dumbledore really did have a passion for all things Muggle. Harry took the stairs two at a time until he reached the solid oak door. Harry opened the door a fraction and peered into the room. There he saw his former headmaster's portrait on the wall, next to Armando Dippet's gilded frame. Harry's heart plummeted as he saw Dumbledore's long and crooked nose buried in his chest as the ancient man snored quietly, deep in uninterrupted slumber. Harry bit his lip as he fought a new onslaught of tears. He had desperately hoped to talk to him…. Harry shut the door quietly and shuffled dejectedly down the stairs once more.

Back in the circular office, Albus Dumbledore stopped snoring and opened his eyes, inwardly cursing himself for being a _rotten coward._

"'OI HERMIONE! HURRY THE HELL UP!" Ron hollered up the stairs to the girl's dormitory. He was standing impatiently on the landing which continued up to the dormitories on both sides. He was dressed in his best khakis and polo—losing the robes, for once. Despite his exterior charade of annoyance, he was actually quite nervous. He was on a date—or about to be, anyway. He had asked Hermione out that morning, and she had replied in her normal clipped manner inside the Great Hall, but outside had made up for it wholeheartedly. His lips were still stinging. Fourteen Butterbeers and three Chapstick tubes later, here he was, waiting anxiously for Hermione to appear out of the mysterious depths of the girls' dressing room. And suddenly—there she was! Like an omniescent (not a word. Omniscient?) angelic presence she floated down in her unique ethereal beauty and placed her arm in his. It took him a while to figure out what to do next. In the meantime, he just gaped.

"Duhhhhh….." he grinned stupidly. Hermione sniffed.

"Are we going to walk, or just stand here looking like utter fools and drooling at each other?" she asked impatiently.

"Oh…right…" said Ron. _Walk, you idiot. **Walk? **DO IT! _"WALK! RIGHTO!" he yelled, whisking a shrieking Hermione after him.

Deep underground the regular hustle and bustle of London rush hour, Rufus Scrimgeour sat in his office with five other men. Weasley, Noone, Stoker, Dippet and Bones. Five good, able men. Well…Weasley was a bit of an "if" factor, but being young, inexperienced, and in desperate need of a career thruster, Scrimgeour thought it charitable to give him a chance after the Crouch Catastrophe and Dumbledore Disaster, as he liked to call them. He was briefing them on their new assignments, all top-secret and highly dangerous. Well, except for Weasley's.

"Right, men. I've chosen you all for your exceptional loyalty, hard work, and cool heads." He paused, surveying their faces and amusedly noting their swelling heads. They looked like popinjays. "Now, here are your files, I want you to read them, memorise them, and destroy them. You leave tonight. That's all." The five officials nodded their way out of the room, and Scrimgeour leaned back in his chair, brimming with self-satisfaction. Everything was going according to plan…

Everything was _not _going according to plan.

Ron was at his wit's end. Hermione looked about to cry, and was actually starting to. They had done nothing in the past hour and a half but snog, argue, sulk, and snog some more. They were now in the sulking stage, and weren't enjoying it one bit. Ron had dragged a ferociously protesting Hermione to the lake, and there they had argued, sulked, and snogged, in that order. Ron had tried so hard to make Hermione's time worthwhile, but once again, his _emotional range of a teaspoon _still interfered. That one still stung. Now he was sitting on the soggy moss by the lake, soaking his bum and thoroughly _dampening _his temper. Hermione was squatting near him, fiddling with her bracelet. Of course, it was the bracelet _Krum _gave her. She was probably regretting ever leaving him. He opened his mouth to spew this new venom at her, then thought the better of it. He glanced quickly at her—she was staring so hard at the ground, it looked like she was trying to shoot lasers out of her eyes. He said this aloud, thinking it harmless, and she laughed hollowly.

"Do you even know what lasers are, Ronald?"

Ron curled his lip in anger. "Of course I do! Just because you're clever, beautiful and you know absolutely everything about everything, _doesn't mean _you can treat the rest of us like dirt!" As soon as he said it, he clapped his hand over his mouth, eyes wide. Hermione was standing, having leapt to her feet earlier, and quivering in suppressed anger. "I didn't mean it…really…" But Hermione was already running. "NO! HERMIONE! WAIT!" Ron bellowed after her as she sprinted inside. "SHIT!" he roared, pounding his fist on his knee. He knew he couldn't go after her, so he got up and angrily stalked off to the Forest.

Inside, as Harry spied Ron taking to the Forest, he sighed quietly and went down to intercept Hermione as she came in. He waited for almost forty minutes in the almost deserted Common Room, but she never came.

**Hope you liked. **

Les Scribbles: Thankee dearly, dahhling! And I did so, is it any saavy-er?

Dami: Here you go! XD

Alexandra: Thank you VEWWWY much for your oh-so-kind review! I like compliments, as it swells my head so I can fit into my dad's hats. MUAHAHAHA I BEAT YOU! (Just kidding! Mebbe we can collaborate!)

Dumbledoreschild: Nice username, by the by. I want him to be my daddy too:D Thanks though!


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